What to do with a drunken sailor

[dishonestlyhonest]

Who: Captain Jack Sparrow and YOU - choose your own adventure with prompts!
What: In which a pirate goes about trying to not be a pirate in a big city filled with things he does not understand though he is grateful that there is at least rum
When all day and into the night and maybe the next day 2/19 through 2/21
Where: A pirate themed bar called 'The Drunken Pirate, the open ground floor clubs at both Virgo and Pride, and a rescuer's apartment in which there is a bathtub and a jar of dirt
Warnings: Jack is being Jack which should be a warning in itself


act i
Jack wasn't sure exactly how he became gainfully employed, but it was a fact that if someone needed a person to act as piratey as possible and tell tall tales, then there would be no doubt in his mind that he was the person to talk to. Well, given that the people that could out-pirate him were not even on this planet, let alone in this universe. Jack landed this job by sheer accidentally showing up the original 'Captain Story', who then quit because of how much a lubber like Jack could out tall tale him. Jack had been a little disappointed since pirates usually tell tales until they pass out but it gave him money for rum and free rum so life was good.

Those times when he wasn't telling tales and drinking rum, he could be singing songs. He might not have the inclination to play an instrument, he still had an nice voice and he knew a lot of songs thanks to Teague. He took requests, but only the way Jack took them - by singing what he could remember and making it up as he went along. He traveled between tables or sat in his corner stool or hung out around the musicians. Maybe he decided to bother you in one of his passing circuits of the bar.

act ii
If there was one thing that Jack knew (granted there was a lot that he could fake given the circumstances) not knowing the layout was a sure fire way of completely screwing things up later on. Luckily, the ground floors of both of the enemy camps were open to visitors. All Jack had to do was take a bath, do that mysterious ritual called teeth brushing and wear something that was a little less piratey than normal, though given just how most people dressed, he really wouldn't have stand out as it was.

So there was this guy dressed in a motley of layers that included lace and sashes and a really nice hat (fedora) swaying through the public areas, fingers wiggling, wide grin on his face showing his golden teeth and generally poking at stuff before drifting on. Care to bother him?

act iii
It was a long day and Jack was tired. Because he didn't really do what normal people did and rent a place to stay, he ended up drifting between the places of other rescuers that he knew of. Today there was a distinct lack of space on the couch and floor, so he ended up in the bathtub. So there is a sleeping pirate sans his boots curled up in the bathtub holding a jar of dirt close to his chest. Wanna wake him up?

Comments

[dishonestlyhonest]

Jack could sleep through a storm if given enough to drink, so there was probably no surprise to anyone that he muttered, wrapped his arms tighter around the jar of dirt, and said something that sounded like 'fishbucsucks'. A gentle tap wasn't going to get him up, not at this moment in time, though he may wrinkle his nose and curl up more.

[determinate]

Well, that's disappointing.

Frisk scrunches up their nose a little, shifting their weight. They can hold on for a little while longer, but chances are he'll still be here then. They're not going outside, either. Reaching out, they tug on his sleeve a little more insistently. Come onnnnnnnn, pirate man.

[dishonestlyhonest]

He snorted, one crusty eye opening and blinking while his nose wrinkles. He had been drinking, true enough. He had been swaying from side to side and he had somehow decided that to protect himself from strange whatsits outside the known universe he needed some dirt. Now he was blinking at some porcelain that was not really what he'd considered porcelain and wondering what happened after the dirt gathering.

Oh. Right. He had gotten tired.

Jack looked up and saw the rather worried face of a young person looking down at him.

"Good morn," he said and then blinked. "It is morning, isn't it?"

[determinate]

Frisk nods. It's pretty early, but it's still morning.

You okay? they type on their phone to show him, fingers moving quickly even without glancing down at the screen. He smells pretty gross. Did he come try to take a bath and fall asleep instead, or what?

[dishonestlyhonest]

"Methinks that a bath maybe in order," he said, opening his other eye and slowly sitting. He looked down at the jar of dirt and frowned. Right. A jar of dirt. Would it count if he just dug it up and not get it from Tia Dalma, or did he have to find her version in this place and hope that she wasn't a woman rightfully scorned?

He set the jar on the ground and levered himself out of the tub, groaning as his head made itself felt and then looked down at the small person. Why was Frisk waking him up? Oh right. Probably needed to use the facilities. He nodded slowly and wobbled his way out to the door, where he would sit on the ground with his head against the wall. Don't mind him; he was going to be a few hours before he fully wakes up.

[determinate]

Thank goodness.

Once Frisk has gone and washed their hands, they come back out. The sight of Jack makes them linger uncertainly for a few seconds. They'd thought he was just asleep; is he actually sick? What's the dirt for? "Are you okay?" they ask after a moment, in a quiet voice.

[dishonestlyhonest]

"Right as rain," Jack replied, or at least tried to reply. The only problem with that was that he, Jack, was still a bit asleep, so it came out a tiny bit more garbled then normal.

"Just resting me eyes."

[determinate]

"Oh."

Frisk sounds a little doubtful about this. But he did just wake up, and spending the night in a bathtub can't have been very restful. It's time to trade off, obviously. They take his sleeve and tug on it, pointing back towards the living room. They had the couch for the night, but they're not using it now.

[dishonestlyhonest]

Jack peered up at the worried tiny face and then looked in the direction where they were pointing. He scratched at his bread, wrinkled his nose and then yawned. Loudly.

"That's mighty kind of you. Are you sure you're done with it?"

[determinate]

Frisk nods. Sure, it's morning. They're not going to bed again anytime soon.

"Gonna make breakfast," they add, quietly. So they'll be moving around in the kitchen. But they're quiet; they're pretty sure they can do it without waking him. It's not like they're going to make bacon and eggs or anything.

[dishonestlyhonest]

"Breakfast," Jack muttered, wrinkling his nose a little before nodding in understanding. He might not really be awake though because he thought of that weird stuff that the box with a suspiciously grinning rabbit on it and not other stuff.

"Right. You go do that and I'll see if I can catch up to me dreams."